The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
It was a blustery day in Central Park everyone was bundled up in parkas, jackets and other warm bits of clothing that would keep them warm. Couples were snuggled together, sharing cups of Coffee and Hot cocoa, laughing endlessly about what they had been doing at work.
It was really a cute sight and most people couldn’t help but “aww” at the adorable groups. Even those that weren’t with people could appreciate the aspect of young love. It wasn’t even Valentine’s Day yet and people were all sing songy and happy, it was enough to put a smile on everyone’s face.
Well maybe not everyone.
Emerald Lupin wasn’t the type to hate people just because they were a couple, that just really wasn’t her style, but today was a little bit different. It had been a while since she had been back in New York City, let alone her favorite spot in Central Park and yet here she was.
The werewolf sat calmly on a smooth rock, placed right by the small stream in central park. Emerald wore a green long sleeved shirt with a brown hoodie of it and with old, warn jeans. She was quite a bit off the beaten path,not a lot of people would find this small stream unless they wandered off of the path. This was of course, exactly what Emerald did, because quite frankly, she really didn’t want to look at couples.
The redhead’s hair blew wildly around her as a particularly blustery gust flew through the park, causing her to let out an irritated growl. Emerald took a small scrunchie that rested on her wrist and pulled her irritating mop back in a tight pony tail, preventing any more escapes. Sure it revealed her mauled ear and some of the scars around her neck area, particularly the one that looked as if some animal tried to rip her throat out but she didn’t really care.
Emerald leaned backwards, her back resting against a tree,her body relaxing considerably.
She had been alone for quite some time now, out in the forests in a whole other state, living on her own, but now that she was back in New York, it was a bittersweet feeling. While she was back, other than Ruby, Emerald didn’t really know what she came back to. To her knowledge, no one really tried to contact her when she was gone and when Ruby had announced happily on her face thingy that she was back, there was really not much of a reception.
Hell, even when she went back to the mansion for a brief amount of time, she didn’t even recognize half the kids that were there. Everything kept changing and Emerald couldn’t help but wonder if she was meant to be in New York anymore. Maybe it would have been better if she had just stayed in the woods among the packs that she had met.
None the less, Emerald would stay in New York for a little while keeping herself occupied for some time until she felt like she needed to move on. Either that or she could just rebuild her pack…a little change never hurt anyone.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 20, 2012 19:35:51 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
It was the damn cat's fault. The damn cat, and a collar that had been bought the last time he'd had a live-in girlfriend. The little white cat came sauntering out of the underbrush like it owned the place, its black-tipped tail held high. Flipsy leapt for it with all the violence in her miniature poodle body. Rupert was tugging her back with a roll of his eyes when—
The collar snapped, and both poodle and cat disappeared into the underbrush.
"Damn it!"
The ex-cop wasn't far behind the pair. Not that he was dressed for a casual stroll in the less well-kept areas of Central Park: all he had on was a pair of sweatpants, a ratty Led Zepplin T-shirt—bought at concert—and a pair of old tennis shoes, no socks. No coat, either. This was supposed to be a quick walk: just letting Flipsy stretch her legs and do her business, and then back to the apartment. It wasn't supposed to be a goddamn therapeutic exercise session. He crashed through the brush, limping, and already out of breath. Up ahead, he could see someone. A woman? The cat had already bounded past her; Flipsy was just about there, and would be passing right under the rock she was sitting on.
"Catch... catch that... poodle!" Rupert wheezed. Right before the ground decided not to not be there. He never saw the creek. Well, that wasn't quite right: he saw it, as he was falling into it.
"Damn it."
The ex-cop looked up, ready to crack a joke at his own expense before the woman. What else could a guy kneeling in mud do?
He didn't expect to recognize her. She was older, she was taller, she was more muscular—how the hell she'd managed that one, he didn't even know. She had more scars, too. But he recognized her.
"...Damn it. Nice ear, Emerald. What, decided that earrings were too mainstream?"
Amidst her deep and somewhat intense musings Emerald found herself dramatically interrupted by a certain cat and miniature poodle.The cat bolted beneath the tree, using her steel toed boots as a launch pad to catapult himself across the stream, far away from the ferocious foe. The werewolf heard the desperate cry of a man to catch the dog and without even thinking, slid from her comfortable rock spot and snatched up the tiny thing. She was of course gentle with the tiny, poor excuse for a dog but she was rather confused as to where her owner wa-
Apparently, right in front of her.
After that beautiful tumble, Emerald couldn't help but laugh at the misfortune of the Poodles owner, her tail wagging back and forth madly. This laughter continued for a bit, just before she recognized the scent, it had been a while but she recognized it alright. It was the distinct smell of failure...okay well failure didn't have the scent, but she would like to think that's what he smelt like. Other than what he ate that day and the fact that he showered, she distinctly smelled his old normal scent. Coffee and Italian food, normally a welcoming smell but on this guy, not so much.
The werewolf's tail stuck straight out at the question, her fur sticking up straight on it. Her shoulder's squared off as she looked at him a small growl escaping her throat. Emerald intook a deep breath and then released it, trying her best not to get angry. It had been years since she had seen him last and while he was the cause of some of that BS she went through back at the camp, there was no point in attacking him now. Those were so long ago and the more she could forget them, the better of she would be.
"Nah, just got into a fight with a lawnmower and lost," Emerald replied jovially,her tail drooping back against her, her ody relaxing ever so slightly. "What about you? I didn't know getting yer tail handed to you by poodle was part of your job description."
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 20, 2012 21:18:31 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"Didn't know they made lawnmowers with teeth," the ex-cop said, slowly getting to his feet. "What happened to your neck? Angry toaster with a nice manicure? Doorknob that skipped breakfast?"
She wasn't like he remembered. He remembered her... younger. In a lot of ways. There was something about her that seemed gone; something about her that had been replaced with a smile that was a few teeth away from being a snarl.
She looked like crap. And that was coming from the ex-cop with the limp and the breathing problems. There was a hard edge to the way she stood, and the way she spoke, that she hadn't had the last time they'd crossed paths.
But then, the last time they'd crossed paths, he'd made her little sister flip a coin to see if Emerald would get tossed in the Camps, or put down like a dog on the spot.
Somehow, he wasn't surprised that seeing him had set her hackles up. He was more surprised that she seemed to be trying to smooth them back down.
"You know me, Emerald. I do the jobs no one else wants." His eyes flicked to the tan and white poodle in the young woman's arms, then back to her eyes. "Mind giving me back my dog, now? Please." He added for good measure. He couldn't keep a little something out of it, though; a little something that said I'm just saying that because I'm a polite guy, mutt.
"Got into a bad-" Emerald paused for a moment and then her eyes narrowed. "Wait I thought you hated me, why the hell do you care?"
Emerald had to admit, she never expected that she would see Rupert ever again after the camps. This was mainly because of the fact that Emerald was pretty sure he would have been killed a long time ago. The guy personally transported mutants to the camps. He had even been in the camps from time to time, how had no one torn through his smug face yet?
None the less, he looked like crap and judging by his scent, he wasn't a cop anymore. Cops all had these particular scents about them, Emerald really couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew that they all had a sort of similar scent. Rupert no longer had that bitter tinge in his scent, so she knew he wasn't a cop anymore. After all, it took some time to get that Police station scent out of a person's skin.
The wolf woman released the small poodle from her grip, nudging her forward towards the ex-cop. The pup must have liked Rupert a little bit, so maybe he wasn't all bad.
"You need to keep better control over her,"Emerald observed as she leaned her head back against the comfort of the nice hard bark of her tree. "I'm not sure if she sees you as an Alpha."
That last comment made an amused smirk appear on Emerald's face, her tail thumping dully on the rock. I doubt anyone can view this guy as an Alpha though. Pfft, what is he gonna do, limp after them?[/color]
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Nov 23, 2012 14:33:08 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"Have you spent too much time as a mutt lately? 'Caring' is what you call it when someone cares," Rupert said, with the careful condescension of a teacher to their very favorite slow learner. "What I'm doing? That's more of a spectator sport. I like a good dog fight, now and then."
A little sensitive about the new scars, wasn't she? Since looking like she'd lost a fight with a wood chipper was par for the course with the wolf girl, he couldn't imagine why.
He got his soggy self out of the creek, and up onto her side of the bank for the poodle exchange. As soon as he had the little mutt in his arms, he slipped the leash around her neck, and clipped it back on itself as a make-shift collar. It would do until they got home. Flipsy wiggled in his arms, licking up at the underside of his chin.
"Right. A broken collar; that's an 'Alpha' issue. And I suppose you could give me lessons. What is it that makes a good Alpha, again? Playing well with the other kids, keeping your pack safe?" He smiled pleasantly. "How's Ruby been doing? Haven't seen her since the Camps."
Alright, this guy was really getting on Emerald’s nerves, he had only been around her for what? Five Minutes? Even if it was only five minutes he seemed to be as annoying as if he had been with her for hours. The wolf woman was usually proud of her scars, but she always hated it when she got them by making a stupid mistake.
“Got into a fight with another dog for territory while I was in wolf form,” Emerald lied, smoothly, shrugging her shoulders casually. “It happens”
Emerald couldn’t help but laugh a little when she saw that pup wiggle a little in his arms. She was a cute dog and while Emerald would never own a dog like that, she couldn’t deny that they were adorable little scaps of fur. The Alpha female was honestly surprised that he hadn’t insulted her again as of yet. What in the world was Rupert up to?
She soon got her answer once he mentioned Ruby, which caused the werewolf to tense up instinctively. Everyone knew how protective she was of Ruby and even if she was older now, that still hadn’t changed. Her baby sister was one of the most important things to her, the thought of that kit had kept her alive more than her instincts ever could.
“She’s fine, “ Emerald answered tersely, “Still outsmarting people every chance she gets. Smart enough to run circles around the both of us.”
Emerald was completely comfortable admitting the fact that her baby sister was smarter than her at times. Of course, she didn’t know how Rupert would react to being reminded that the young fox girl outdid him and his behemoth buddy all that time ago.
Posted by Rupert Kelley on Dec 9, 2012 20:25:05 GMT -6
Haven
Member of Haven
Bi
822
9
Aug 29, 2018 17:15:00 GMT -6
Calley
"Got into a fight," Rupert repeated, in a deadpan, "with another dog. For territory."
He'd have given that the slow clap it deserved, but he had an arm full of wiggling poodle.
"Wow. Still making friends like the social butterfly you are, I see." He scratched Flipsy between her tan ears as one of her hind legs kicked in delight. To Emerald's comment on her sister, his only reply was an amused snort.
Smart enough to run circles around an Algebra textbook, maybe, but not smart enough to make it around a block in Brooklyn alive. There was smart, and there was smart. Ruby had always been a regular champ at the one, but he'd be damn surprised if she lived long enough to figure out the other.
Not that he cared, one way or the other. He'd done his piece for the sisters; they'd made it into the Camps alive, and back out of them with the same number of pieces they'd come in with. Why he'd even felt obligated to do that much, he had no idea: it was just one of the many things that gave fuel to his insomnia, every night. How many of those mutants who he'd set free—how many of them had gone on to kill? Not everyone in the Camps was a Ruby, as much as the mutant-huggers who'd gotten that law overturned wanted people to believe; most of them were Emeralds, or worse. Half-feral mutts with blood on their hands. The Registration Act was the best thing that had happened to this country since mutants became public; poorly implemented, maybe, but a damn good idea.
Why the hell. Were they still having this conversation.
"Well. As pleasant as it is to meet an old inmate, I have better things to do. And I'm sure you'd rather be sitting out here alone, on your... rock."
...As she'd been doing when he'd come along. Well. It was nice to know there were more pathetic ways to spend your free time than walking a poodle. Like rock sitting, or dog fighting.
